


Burn this city

by varevare (varebanos)



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varebanos/pseuds/varevare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Rahndom's Tim Drake Big Bang: Damian doesn't meet his father for the first time until the day he turns fifteen. Things don't work exactly the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rahn (Rahndom)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahndom/gifts).



It was raining hard enough to make it almost impossible to find the cave’s entrance. Not that that was an easy feat in any other weather, or time of the day. Damian knew where it was perfectly - he had studied enough pictures and maps to find it with his eyes closed - but it took him a good two hours to actually get inside. That, together with the time it took him to get to Gotham from Metropolis and cross the two cities, made him grateful for having gotten out of his hotel with hours to spare before Batman arrived.

He had not expected escaping his guards to be so easy, even if his mother would never expect that his trip to Superman’s city would end like this. He could take price on how smoothly his plan had gone, Damian decided just as he finished hacking the first gate lock and slipped inside the cave, shivering and soaked to his bones. The sun had been shining when he woke up that morning, with the weather in Metropolis being -as with everything- nicer that Gotham’s, and he had dressed up with light clothes that would allow him to move faster. A designer coat wasn’t the best outfit to attempt stealth. Of course, he had been overly optimistic, and the sky got darker the more he approached Batman. His father. Damian repressed another shiver, but this time it wasn’t from the cold. He had been planning to meet him for months -all his life, technically, but this specific plan was more recent; given what he knew of his schedule, Batman would arrive to the cave in under an hour. Damian was so close he felt like he was already in front of him.

Damian knew everything about Batman. Or at least, he knew more than any civilian or member of the police. More than most members of the League, too. His mother always told him the stories, and ever since Damian decided to go meet him he had started to investigate on his own. Talia always said there was no need for Damian to meet him in at least a couple of years more, when he was seventeen or eighteen, and given what she said, Bruce Wayne probably didn’t know of his son’s existence. Otherwise, he would have looked for Damian, right? However, Damian was pretty sure he would be able to explain everything soon enough to avoid being classified as a threat. He had been waiting to meet him all his life, and he felt ready to join him now, whether his mother wanted it or not.

The second gate was a bit harder to open, even with how prepared Damian was, and he was in such a hurry to get inside (where he hoped it’d be warm and dry) that he almost triggered an alarm. That definitely wouldn’t do, it would be almost worse than being still there when the Batmobile entered and getting run over. Almost. Muttering curses under his breath, Damian undid his work, throwing the screwdriver he had used to keep the panel open on the ground, and started looking for an alternative.

The storm outside had quieted down as soon as he had gotten past the first door -of course, that was just his luck- and the possibilities of somebody else getting into the cave while he was there were way too high for his liking. The lack of light wasn’t helping, and if some vehicle came by he wouldn’t be able to hide anywhere. His flashlight -he missed having night vision goggles, but they would have been too suspicious to pack to go to Metropolis and impossible to buy there- revealed a moderately sized air vent near the ceiling. Damian reconsidered his plan. It would have to do.

Ripping it from its place was easier than he expected, and putting it on the floor without making any noise, he pushed himself up and squirmed his way inside. The air duct was way too small to allow him to turn around and put the vent back in, but before anybody noticed where he had left it he hoped to have already met his father. He was so close, it was enough to make him forget how claustrophobic the air duct was.

The sound of bats screeching and flying got louder after he took a ninety degrees turn, and suddenly he was in front of another vent. Approaching it more slowly, he squinted and saw he was... pretty high above the ground, with views to a couple of cars. One was probably the Batmobile itself, and Damian felt a pang of nervousness in the stomach again. The height, three or four meters above the ground, didn’t scare him -although the fact that he’d have to jump head first was a bit worrying- and he kept assuring himself that he had no reasons to worry about meeting his father. He had been planning this, preparing himself for it, and he knew what he was going to say. Nobody from the League had caught him yet, and he was in the Batcave now. That was his father’s territory, he was safe.

With that thought, Damian gave a final push to the vent, making it fall to the ground with a loud clatter, and pulled himself outside.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of the vent hitting the ground had alerted Batman, as Damian should have imagined it would -he didn’t have any other options though- and he had barely managed to reorient himself after landing before he had to jump away to avoid the darts that were sent his way. Damian was reasonably sure they weren't poisoned, but they would probably incapacitate him -and he needed to be awake and ready for this. He had been expecting some security measures, anyways. However, in his urge to get away, he pushed himself over a metal rail that was clearly not intended for that use, getting two deep cuts on each palm in the process. Damian hissed, seeing the blood drop on the ground as a tall and dark shadow approached. Instinctively, he grabbed for his sword, which he carried more to reassure himself than because he truly believed it would be of any use.

“Who do you work for?” Batman growled, and even if he was shorter than it had appeared at first, Damian couldn’t help but to feel slightly intimidated.

“I don’t work for anybody, my name is-”

Before he could even finish that sentence, Batman kicked his feet from under him and immobilized him, pulling his arms against his back. Damian had not been expecting an attack right away, but, he could deal with it.

“That sword is from the League of Shadows. Did Ra’s send you? What did you come here for?”

“I am not with the League!” Damian winced when Batman increased the pressure on his arms, brushing one of his bleeding hands with a rough gauntlet. “I am your son!”

Batman froze over him, and even the shrieks from the bats seemed to go quiet for an instant. When Batman pulled him up, with his arms still behind his back, Damian had to fight his instincts not to struggle to get away. It was painful and uncomfortable, and the only way he knew for dealing with something like that was to leash out. He wasn’t about to attempt to hit his Father, though. Not because he did not think himself able to, but because it would not give him points, and Damian knew how to control himself. He wanted to join him in his crusade, after all; he could get his hands bandaged later.

A minute passed without Batman saying anything, and when Damian noticed his hands going numb, he tried to speak again.

“My name is Damian! And I am not working for the League, I ran away!” Leaving his guardians unconscious and all the trackers and League equipment ruined. He had also stolen a bike on his way to the cave, but his father did not need to know that. “My mother is Talia, she always said we looked alike, just look at me!”

At that, Batman yanked his head back and Damian saw for the first time the empty white lenses up close. He felt at a disadvantage now, with his face uncovered -and his arms on his back and both his hands bleeding- but whatever it was that his Father saw, it was enough to make him release him. As soon as he could move his hands, Damian took off his black scarf and started trying to bandage his palms with it. It wasn’t an easy task, given that both were dripping blood by then, and he almost missed Batman’s next sentence.

“I have never heard of you.”

Batman’s voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. Damian knew his real voice, it wasn’t that hard to find videos of Bruce Wayne on the internet, and he could recognize it, but the modulation was completely different. Between that and the costume, even with all the information he had, Damian almost started to doubt this was really his father. Fortunately for him, Batman seemed to doubt that he wasn’t. He remembered his mother -Damian doubted anybody who had met Talia could ever forget her- and he knew that Damian being his son was a real possibility. It might not be the smoothest first encounter, but it was enough for Damian.

“Mother intended to keep me as a secret until I became an adult,” Damian replied, sounding a bit bitter. “I was trained to become your successor and make you join her, but I don’t want to follow her plans anymore.”

“Give me your sword, and any other weapons you are carrying.”

Damian rolled his eyes. He did not need any weapons to be a threat, and his own Father should know that. Still, he gave in, and with some work -one bleeding hand and the other one hastily bandaged- he released the weapon. It was his favorite sword, the one Talia had gotten him for his birthday together with the trip. As soon as Batman took it from his hands, Damian felt really tired. He didn’t even protest when he was lead to a small white room -obviously a cell- and got locked there. At least there was a bed, which made the accommodations definitely better that any prison of the League he had ever seen. All the sounds from the cave became muted and slightly metallic after the door closed, and Damian had to force himself to go clean his hands and bandage them with the small first aid kit that was resting on a table.

“I will make some tests,” Batman’s voice came from behind the door. It took a moment for Damian to guess that he would probably use the blood that Damian had left... everywhere. “You will remain in the cave until the results come back next morning, and then I will decide what to do with you.”

Damian laid down on the small mattress. It was more comfortable than he had expected, and soon he found himself starting to drift away. He heard his Fathers footsteps walking away from the room, and even if he knew it would be impossible to hear, Damian mumbled a goodnight before falling asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Damian had grown up accustomed to waking up before sunrise. However, the previous day -and following night- had proved itself to be extenuating, and together with the light changes, when Damian finally opened his eyes he knew he had slept way more than usual. Enraged voices came muted from beyond the door, reminding him in an instant of where he was and what had happened.

With a jump, Damian pushed himself to his feet. He finished remembering the details of the previous night when the sting in his hands made him curl up in pain.

The results of the blood tests had to be out, and he was now merely minutes away from being officially recognized and accepted as Batman’s son, and neither the pain or the numbness from the uncomfortable bed could decrease his excitement. He was waiting by the door when the wall next to it slowly became transparent. Damian stepped back, more surprised than he’d like to admit -he had known about the mirrors, but they were usually way more obvious than this- and took another look at the room. He had not had time to process it the night before, but now it was clear that the room was in fact a cell, probably designed to keep away prisoners too dangerous or well informed to send to the police. Exactly what Damian had been the previous night, no doubt, but he felt confident things would change soon enough.

He was still immersed in such thoughts when he realized that there was another person besides his father behind the glass. They had apparently stopped yelling, but they still looked to be upset with each other. Although he had recognized his father’s silhouette right away, Damian’s own reflection in the glass meant that it took him longer to recognize the other one. When he finally did, however, the reason why he was arguing with Batman was clear: it was Timothy Drake, third and current Robin. Drake had crossed his arms and was glaring at Batman. His profile made Damian remember one of the pictures his Grandfather had brought up once when planning an offensive against Batman. Now Drake was older, probably also taller than what Ra’s data said, and he looked experienced and dangerous enough to make Damian glad that Batman was the one being glared at, instead of himself.

The reflection of the light inside the cell against the glass didn’t allow Damian to read their lips, but he had little doubt of what was being discussed: his father intended for him to acquire the Robin mantle as his legitimate son and heir, and the current Robin was resisting it. Damian suppressed the smile that threatened to break out and instead stood straight, not a single muscle moving, waiting for somebody to speak to him. Everything would be alright at last, and he would never go back to his mother and his training and his having to hide from his own family, grandfather and father alike.

Of course, when they finally did speak to him, it wasn’t as Damian had expected.

“Damian Al Ghul,” Batman said, and the use of that name should have prepared Damian for what was to come, “the DNA tests have proven that you are, indeed, my son.”

His voice was coming from a speaker hidden somewhere in the wall, but Damian had more important things to care about than finding it. Drake murmured something too low for the microphone to catch, and after a pause Batman spoke again.

“However, this does not mean we can stop considering you a threat. You have been brought up by the League of Assassins. The chances of you being part of some bigger plan of Ra’s al Ghul are too high, and therefore you will remain here until it’s proven otherwise.”

The air froze -or maybe it was just Damian- when Batman finished talking. Without a pause, he turned around to leave, and the glass started turning back to white. It was practically impossible to see through when Damian finally reacted, throwing himself against the barrier.

“Father! I came to join you, I have nothing to do with the League anymore! Please, listen to me!” He didn’t even have any guarantees that his father would hear him, but if he allowed him to leave God knew how much time he would end up spending locked there. “I have renounced the League’s teachings, I want to fight with you and defend Justice-”

The last thing he saw before the wall turned white completely was the pitiful look Drake shoot him before turning to follow Batman. It almost hurt more than his father’s rejection.

-

Robin’s night had been way longer than he would have liked. The drug trafficking on the South half of Gotham had been increasing exponentially for the last two months without anybody being able to pinpoint the source of the drugs. Tim, as Robin, had his own cases to work on too; however, the situation was getting so bad both him and Jason were working in the drug trade almost full time. More Tim than Jason, of course -the ex Robin had enough problems on his own, going back to the Manor and civilian life, for Tim not to understand and accept it. Even if Jason still spent half of the time hidden away in his room, the other half of the time he was helping them, and that was better than not having him there. Tim knew that even with just Bruce and him it should be enough -Batman and Robin were invincible and all those things he used to think as a kid- but that didn’t stop him from wishing Dick was there instead of in New York -or off planet, Tim couldn’t even remember. Even if there were still no leads and him being in Gotham would have been useless, he could have been there and lift everybody’s spirits.

Because the mood all around the Manor was terrible. Bruce was more frustrated with the drug trade every day, and Jason, even if he was following his treatment -and had gotten over his apparent hate towards Tim ages ago- was still prone to fits of anger or merely isolating himself. Alfred was as he always was -a bit older, a bit wearier, but still himself- and more than happy to have Jason back, but he wasn’t enough to keep the tension away.

That tension returned to Tim tenfold when, after driving into the cave with the sunrise peaking out at his back, he found Batman inside, glowering at the data on the screens. He could practically smell the sense of wrongness, even before seeing the sword or the blood stains in the ground.

And now he was there, looking at Batman’s son hitting the glass. Even without looking at the blood test, his features were so alike Bruce’s that Tim couldn’t doubt they were related. It was incredible that Damian could have been hidden away for fifteen years, but if the boy was telling the truth Tim guessed he had been Talia’s... “personal project”, and most of Tim’s contacts in the League of Shadows were related to Ra’s and not her. Tim, however, had more than enough information to know that Damian appearing there wasn’t part of one of the League’s plans. There had been no movement of Ra’s troops in the area for the last six months, the League was currently busy with some business in Russia or- Tim didn’t even care. He had gone back to working only in Gotham after Bruce came back from the dead, and he was determined to have as little contact with Ra’s as possible. Which required knowing where Ra’s was and what was he doing. And in whatever plans he had, Tim knew Damian was not included.

Damian's story, even if he had no proof that confirmed it besides his own blood, didn’t have any contradictions, and Bruce was being excessively paranoid. The scans he had run on the room showed Damian had no weapons or communicator on him, the sword didn’t have anything suspicious either, and besides the abandoned (probably stolen) bike on the outskirts of the Manor, Damian had obviously not brought anything else with him. The camera feed only confirmed it, and Tim had serious doubts that Ra’s or Talia would send somebody of his own blood on some secret mission with as little guarantees as Damian had. Nobody to save him if he got in trouble. A boy running away from home didn’t fit the al Ghul’s style.

The despair had been obvious on Damian’s face, and Tim could imagine what he was yelling, even if he didn’t even know whether or not there was somebody still behind the glass. Tim thought about starting the microphone again and calming him down somehow. He knew what it was like, meeting Batman and trying to convince him to let him join his crusade, and being rejected right away. Damian was still so young, too... But convincing Bruce of Damian’s innocence seemed more important at the moment.

When he stepped outside the room next to the cell, Tim could barely make out Batman’s figure walking back towards the computers. Tim knew he had been working all night, and the day before, but it didn't look like he intended to stop anytime soon. He needed to stop, and in any case Tim wouldn’t have any chances of talk him out of keeping Damian imprisoned if things stayed like that. Alfred would be worried when he heard too, without doubt, and Tim hoped he would be able to enlist his help -even though Damian’s arrival and current situation wouldn’t precisely cheer the old man up. With some luck, Tim would be able to keep it from him for a while at least. First things first though, he had to talk to Bruce.

“Bruce!”

Batman, already sitting in front of a screen, barely grumbled a response. Tim had opposed to his position about Damian ever since he first heard about it -imprisoning your own child?- and now Bruce wasn’t being too communicative. More like at all.

“Bruce, it’s 9 in the morning, you have to stop working. Let’s have breakfast,” Tim said, pushing at the chair a bit. When he started as Robin he would have never even dared to do something like that, the chair a big, dark, imposing presence. He almost smiled at the memory. “If you don’t, you know Alfred will worry and come down here.”

‘And I am not helping you explain Damian’ went unsaid. The unspoken threat was apparently effective, because Bruce grumbled something before turning around to stand up after a moment. With no explanation, he started walking towards the showers, and Tim scored himself a point. Getting Bruce out of the cave was the first step to make him to stop thinking about the Mission, even if it was just temporary. Tim knew he had no chances of making the Batman understand what Damian meant and why he should give him a chance; he only saw black and white in matters like these, especially when he was in one of his bad moods. Bruce, however, was a completely different story.

Tim went directly to the Manor and told Alfred that Bruce would come up for breakfast. The relief on the old butler’s face was obvious, and it almost made Tim feel guilty to think that he had only made Bruce come out to set a trap for him. Alfred was having a bad time, and he probably deserved them all to be nicer.

In any case, they would all have a good breakfast. Jason was there today, having come back from patrol earlier than any of them, and Tim was pretty sure he would support his opinion. He was usually all for helping misguided teenagers. Everything would go well. Tim even played with the idea of calling Dick to give him the news -Dick would just love the idea of a new little brother-, but he ended up deciding against it. Nightwing had his own missions and from what Tim knew, the current one was definitely important. Maybe not as important as the news of a new addition to the family, not by Dick’s standards at least, but it wasn’t like the situation was something Tim wouldn’t be able to handle. Tim could call him when everything was sorted out.

The idea of Dick coming home to a new grumpy kid to hug made him smile while he changed back to his normal clothes. He would keep working on the case during the day, his work time never really over, but nothing stopped him from doing so in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Alfred didn’t allow non-civilian clothing in the kitchen anyway -though that rule was more there for Bruce than for any of them, and in fact Jason often went to get something to eat in full gear.

That reminded Tim that he should probably explain the situation to Jason first. The ex Robin had as much information as Tim himself did on the League of Shadows. In what concerned Talia, he might even have more, so Tim hurried and managed to get in the kitchen before Bruce did.

Jason was the only one there, looking half asleep waiting for the food, which wasn’t completely prepared yet. Alfred had probably gone to make sure Bruce wouldn’t avoid breakfast. Tim, without wasting a moment, sat across from Jason and gave him a brief exposition of the situation-

-and it shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise as it was when Jason’s first words were “Damian is here?”


	4. Chapter 4

“You knew about Damian?!” Tim practically screamed.

“Hey, hey, calm down Timmy,” Jason replied, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. “I only knew him as a bossy kid that was around Talia when I lived at the League. She never said a thing about who his father was. ‘Sides, my memories of that time are fuzzy.”

Tim was still trying to absorb the information, even though it made sense that Damian would be there when Jason met Talia. He had to have been six or seven at the very least. Still, to Tim it almost seemed that Damian had come to be that night -to think that he had been there for so long, that they could have known about him but never did...

“Is he really Bruce’s son?” Jason finally asked, too curious to wait for Tim to speak. “It’s hard to believe, he never-”

He never finished that sentence. The door to the kitchen swung open and Alfred appeared, followed by a grumbling Bruce in sport clothes -all brand name, of course. Everybody exchanged greetings -although it was weird to say good morning when nobody but Alfred had gone to sleep the previous night- and for a couple of minutes nobody spoke beyond the necessary to put all the breakfast foods on the kitchen island. They were all hungry, and after Alfred served everybody coffee and left the room to continue his duties around the house the silence went on, everybody preferring to pay attention to the food first.

Bruce wasn't as tense as he had been in the cave, Jason a bit more so than when Tim arrived, and Tim would have been sorry for breaking the peace if he hadn’t remembered that Damian could have been there with them having breakfast instead of hungry and cold in the cave. Alfred didn’t even know about him, and who knew when the last time the boy had eaten anything had been. Being trained by the League, it probably meant nothing to him, but that changed nothing. He was in his father’s house, and Bruce should take care of him, not lock him down.

“Bruce, I think you should release Damian.”

The reaction was immediate: both Bruce and Jason stopped eating and stared at him. They were both obviously hoping that Tim would wait until breakfast was finished -and Tim knew they were waiting to run away, and trying to get them both together out there meant wasting precious time Damian couldn’t afford. Fortunately, Tim’s fast reaction meant they were unprepared, and he started speaking again before anybody said anything.

“I told Jason about him, and he agrees with me. He deserves a chance.”

Bruce stared at him like he had gone crazy, and Jason, who had discreetly been trying to go back to eating, choked on a piece of pancake.

“Damian is a threat for everybody’s safety,” Bruce stated. “We can’t afford-”

“He’s just a kid,” Tim interrupted him, feeling the anger rise again. “He’s your son, and if you can keep fifty ninjas under control or manage two hostage situations at the same time, you can keep an eye on him instead of keeping him locked up like a criminal.”

“He is a distraction we can’t afford. I am convinced he is part of a bigger plan, we can’t have him just roaming around Gotham freely.”

“He is not! We both know the League hasn’t been working in Gotham for a while, and if there was a plan big enough to mean bringing Ra’s own blood into the Manor, we would have heard about it.”

“I think we would have heard about Damian’s existence if your contacts were as good as you think they are, Tim. I don’t-”

Jason was looking back and forth between them like the conversation was a tennis match, not opening his mouth. Bruce and Tim were headstrong, and they had enough arguments to last for a while. Alfred wouldn’t be back anytime soon -not while there was no shouting and breaking plates, at least- and the situation threatened to become an indefinite stalemate. That is, until Jason got tired and spoke.

“Why don’t you just keep him here at the Manor? There has to be a middle point between letting Damian do whatever and keeping him locked up.”

Both Bruce and Tim turned to look at him.

“That might be reasonable,” Bruce said, apparently surprised that something like that had come out of Jason’s mouth. Tact had never been his strong point.

“Of course it’d be,” Jason grumbled, going back to his cinnamon roll. “You’re just idiots.”

Tim smiled. He was never worried about not convincing Bruce -as soon as Alfred knew about Damian, he would make Bruce release him anyways- but it had barely been five minutes before Bruce agreed to take Damian out of the cell. They all resumed breakfast, making no more mention of Damian when Alfred came back. Tim finished eating first, and he stood up, grabbing a couple of muffins and some coffee for Damian.

“Alfred, please prepare a room for Damian. Bruce will give you the details,” he told the butler, smiling.

Tim saw Bruce pale as Alfred turned to him in a silent question, Jason hurrying to finish breakfast behind the two of them. Laughing internally -Bruce totally deserved that- he left the kitchen. Time to meet Damian properly.

-

Damian had already given up his expectations of anybody coming down for him. He didn't understand how everything could have gone so badly. Batman was a knight of justice! Defender of the weak, terror of the villains! He shouldn't be the kind of person who would lock their own son away without even giving him a chance to explain himself! Not even his Mother would do that, and Damian knew most people considered her heartless.

He regretted ever trying to meet his father. He had wanted to become one of the heroes Talia had told him about, not a prisoner less deserving of attention than any anonymous ninja. A prisoner who, if things stayed the same, would soon die of hypothermia. He was able to support temperatures more extreme than most people, but he never liked the cold, his clothes had never completely dried, and the cave wasn’t precisely warm. Damian knew he should do some kind of exercise to try keep himself warm, but he lacked the energy to get out of the bed -and what was the point, anyway?

It was at that moment that the door of the cell swung open, and Robin stepped inside carrying a bundle of things that looked like clothes at first glance. But it wasn’t Robin- it was Tim Drake, dressed in street clothes and apparently not carrying any weapons. It showed more trust than anything his father had ever done for him, and it made Damian a bit more hopeful. Drake’s face didn’t even look all that mean up close.

“What are you doing here?” Damian finally asked, too surprised to move.

Tim shot him a small smile before readjusting everything he was carrying and locking the door one handed. For all Damian knew, there was no way to unlock it from the inside, but he could guess Robin wouldn’t get in a cell without a way out.

“I thought you'd like some dry clothes to change into. I can’t believe Bruce let you keep those ones on, they're soaked!”

It was only proof of how exhausted Damian was when Tim dropped a stack of neatly folded clothes onto his lap before he had time to react. Tim was still smiling at him, and for some reason Damian’s cheeks were heating up.

“These clothes are just spare ones we keep in case some incident happens, you can keep them. Oh, and I also brought you breakfast,” Tim added.

With Damian still checking the clothes -plain trousers and a warm looking sweater- Tim placed the rest of the stuff he was carrying on the table, next to the first aid kit. He was even giving his back to Damian to do so, and Damian wasn’t sure if Tim was incredibly trusting of him, or if he had some kind of hidden plan. Maybe he was trying to get Damian to attack him to make Batman kick him out -though in that case, he wasn’t doing too well.

Damian had absolutely no intentions of attacking him. Drake had brought him food, clothes, and his eyes were nicer in person than in the photographs he was used to. As things were now, Damian would probably attack his Father sooner than attack him.

The wet clothes were harder to peel off than he was used to, especially with his hands hurting like they did, but Damian managed to get changed. Even his shoes and underwear had gotten soaked, but when he slipped the sweater on he instantly felt better. Damian had been trained in enough places and met enough people not to be embarrassed about changing clothes in public, but he couldn’t avoid checking if Tim was looking at him. The older boy seemed more interested in rearranging the first aid supplies, though, and Damian stopped thinking about it as soon as he noticed the food. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he took a bite of a muffin, and he was convinced it was the most delicious meal he'd had in years.

His delight probably showed on his face, because when Damian opened his eyes he found Tim looking at him with a small smile.

“Those chocolate muffins are Bruce’s favorite, too,” he said, as if it meant anything.

Damian swallowed, feeling mocked but not knowing how to reply. Except that the muffins were delicious and that cup probably had coffee and, well, Drake wasn’t going to go anywhere.

Five minutes later, the food wasn’t on the table anymore and Drake was still staring at him looking pleased.

“What are you planning, Robin?” Damian asked, breaking a silence that was becoming more uncomfortable with each second that passed.

“I am not planning anything,” Tim replied, laughter in his eyes even though he kept his expression perfectly composed. “Bruce hasn’t been too nice, has he? But he’s just burned out, don’t take it personally. I’m sure he’ll warm up to you soon.”

Tim was smiling at him again, and a fluttery sensation surged again on Damian’s stomach. Maybe he hadn’t eaten enough.

Drake was... different from how he had imagined. In most of the pictures Ra’s -and therefore Talia- had, Robin appeared alone, and Damian was starting to realize his Grandfather hadn’t been objective in his appreciation of the man. Tim was taller and way more imposing than the pictures had let on.

Of course, Damian had known for a while that his family’s opinion on most things wasn’t completely reliable. In any case, and unlike with his Father, meeting Drake in person hadn’t lessened Damian’s appreciation for him. More the opposite, but Damian preferred to examine those feelings later.

“I convinced Bruce to let you move into one of the Manor’s rooms. He won’t let you go outside or know much about the job, but we're working on it.” Tim stood up and walked closer to Damian, who immediately tensed up. However, Tim just held his hand out. “I know you already know my name, but I still want to introduce myself. My name is Timothy Drake.”

With less hesitation than he had thought he would have merely hours ago, Damian reached out and shook his hand, repressing a wince of pain.

“My name is Damian. Damian Wayne.”

Tim lifted an eyebrow slightly, but he made no comment on Damian’s name choice.

“Well, Damian, let’s go to your room, shall we? Though first we should make a stop so I can bandage your hands properly.” He smiled again and, turning around, he started poking a space of the wall that to Damian didn’t look any different from any other. “Unless you’d prefer to stay here?”

The door opened, startling Damian.

“No, I don’t think I do,” he mumbled, more to himself than to Tim.

“Then let’s go.”


	5. Chapter 5

When Drake had lead him to his current room, Damian had felt happy to leave the cell. Now, a couple of weeks later, he thought he might as well have stayed back at the cave. There was practically no difference between the rooms, after all.

All right, there were some. For one, the bed was more comfortable, and the view -through bulletproof, fixed windows- was definitely better.

It didn't take any attention away from the fact that Damian's living space had been permanently reduced to a bedroom with an adjacent bathroom: he was still a prisoner, and there was no way around it. Since that morning when Damian went inside, the door had remained perfectly shut, and the only openings to the outside were a tiny vent for air and a small slot on the wall where plates of food were introduced. Not even with all his assassin training could he escape through either. The door had an electrical lock and was reinforced, so lock-picking wouldn’t help either. He should have known, he should have noticed how thick the walls were, how heavy the door was before he stepped in, the damn slot-

He hadn’t even met anybody else during his whole time there, just talked with them from across the door. Damian had spoken with Alfred Pennyworth a couple of times, and with Jason Todd -Damian had been surprised to know he was living at the Manor- just once. His father, on the other hand, was apparently too busy checking Damian's story to talk to him again, and if Damian was to believe what Todd had said, both Timothy Drake and Richard Grayson were out of Gotham.

The Red Hood had been in a pretty good mood when he visited Damian. He talked about when he met Damian as a baby -he didn’t seem to mind that Damian was unable to remember him- and he even seemed to be against Damian’s imprisonment. Todd had assured that his father was merely “a stubborn ass, but he’ll come around”.

That had been three days after Damian's arrival, and at the time, he had believed Todd -admittedly, he had also desperately wanted to believe him. Fifteen days and seven escape attempts later though, he was starting to find it hard to stay optimistic. Who in the world had guest rooms with sealed windows and metal bars reinforcing the doors?

Of course, Batman did.

Escape plan number eight included sacrificing the television. Damian intended to break it for some scrap metal, and if his plan failed again he doubted he would get Pennyworth to send him another one, even if it was flat enough to make it through the hole. The older man had stopped talking to him after Damian had complained about his disgusting food, and he probably didn’t care about Damian’s lack of past times there.

After escaping, he would... definitely not return to the League. There was a chance he could mask his two week absence as just wanting to explore around the country without his bodyguards’ vigilance: he would be disciplined, of course, but it could work. However, he didn’t want to. Even after being rejected by his father, his wishes of doing good and being a hero still remained.

Maybe he could manage to become something like Red Hood when he started out. Todd already had experience with the whole vigilante business when he did, but hell, if he could make it, Damian certainly could. He would leave the house and not even look back.

He wished he could tell Drake all those things before leaving, though. He was the only person who showed Damian any kindness, and Damian would never be able to repay him.

-

Okay. So maybe the explosion had almost killed him. So maybe Damian had attacked him when he ran through the demolished wall and found him standing between the his freedom and himself. So maybe Tim's extensive training was the only reason he was there instead of in a hospital bed, with a concussion or worse, and the only reason Damian hadn’t managed to run for the hills that morning-

"-because Bruce, if any of us had been in a situation even remotely similar to his, we would have done the same. Probably even before he did! How could you keep him locked up?! You said you would let him be in the Manor!"

Tim was angry. He might not have the same anger issues that Bruce or, well, anybody else in the vigilante business seemed to have, but he could get mad just fine. And it had taken Bruce by surprise.

"I told you, Tim, he's dangerous, we-"

"He's your son!" Tim replied before Bruce finished his sentence. "You are so centered in the mobsters and drug trades that you couldn't even put some work into researching him?!"

"He wasn't an emergency, Tim!"

"Who cares? He should have been your priority!"

When he started as Robin, he had never thought he would ever keep up a conversation like this, but here he was. And there was Bruce: angry, scary, sounding more like Batman than like Bruce Wayne, but ultimately without enough arguments to win the fight. And they both knew it.

"Well, what do you want me to do?! To throw everything away, risk all our work..."

Tim sighed. Bruce's obsession with his Mission had not really improved since Tim first met him. Sometimes it got better, like that time Jason finally returned to them; others it was worse, like during any of his fights with Dick that made him avoid Gotham for months.

As a whole, if anything it had gotten. Tim was pretty sure that if Damian had waited until Talia decided to officially introduce him to Batman, he'd have had better chances of getting accepted as Bruce's son. Being classified as a threat would have at least guaranteed more attention than just appearing and allowed himself to get imprisoned. 'Not a threat' meant no attention required from the Batman.

"Bruce, if you can't stop working on your mission for long enough to take care of Damian, I will."

Tim had been arguing for an hour now, and he just wanted to shake Bruce into action. His words had the desired effect, because Bruce fell silent and both him and Damian -who had spent their whole fight curled up in an armchair- were looking at him now.

"You would do that?" Damian asked, the first words he'd said since the fight started.

Bruce wasn’t saying anything yet, and Tim couldn’t know if he was waiting for confirmation that Tim was being serious or just thinking about his options.

Tim should think about his options, too: was he willing to trust Damian and live with him? His apartment was big enough, for sure, but he was usually busy and wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him all the time. If Dick were there instead of off planet somewhere, it would be easier. Jason wouldn’t be able to help much, but Alfred would probably support him...

His other option was to keep Damian locked up until he managed to demolish whatever room he was in again, or until Talia learned about what happened and decided to take Damian back from them. No matter what he negotiated with Bruce, it would end like before.

So he didn’t really have many options to choose from.

“Yes, I will.” Tim was looking at Damian, but he could feel Bruce’s eyes on him. “It would just be a temporary arrangement, until Bruce is free to give you more of his time. Right, Bruce?”

Bruce, without a word, stood up and gestured for Tim to follow him, with one of the many signs Tim had already memorized as Robin. Like all other times when Bruce overworked himself as Batman, the borders between his two personas started getting blurry, and it didn’t really take any effort for Tim to read them as if they had been in the field: time to talk privately.

And as a good Robin, Tim knew to follow orders. Without comment, he stood up and followed Bruce outside, leaving a very puzzled Damian alone inside.

“I don’t like this,” were Bruce’s first words when they were too far for Damian to hear. “He’s dangerous. Look at what he did to the room! I can’t let you do something like that.”

“He’s not some irresponsible vandal, Bruce,” Tim replied. “He can clearly control himself; he hasn’t attacked anyone! He just wanted to get out of that prison. And even if that wasn't the case, I've been patrolling with you for almost ten years. I've fought ninjas before, I can deal with a single one.”

“It’s too risky. Ever if you're an adult now, he’s my son and therefore my responsibility.”

“Then you should have taken care of him these past few days. You had your chance; now I'm taking him with me, whether you like it or not.”

Bruce sighed. He was clearly upset, but Tim knew he had won.

“I want reports about him every day, and if looking after him interferes with your duties he will come back here. You can’t lose sight of him, and when you go on patrol he has to stay in-”

“Of course, B.” Tim smiled a bit. “I'll go tell Damian we're leaving.”


	6. Chapter 6

Damian had honestly been expecting another trap when he arrived at the apartment. With the many chances he'd had to escape on their way here from the Manor, it definitely would have been embarrassing to find himself in the same situation again. However, that didn’t happen.

In fact nothing happened at all, and continued to not happen, except that now he was sharing an apartment with Robin. Damian's life had suddenly become absolutely, alarmingly normal -civilian levels or normal- and now he was going to get groceries with Timothy.

Timothy's rules, to call them something, were infinitely more relaxed than his Father's. Damian wasn't allowed to go out alone, but this actually meant he was allowed to go out. He hadn't been able to see Gotham's streets in person ever since he arrived at the Manor, and back then Damian had been in too much of a hurry to be able to take a proper look. Walking next to Tim, who was busy talking on his phone -something about Wayne Enterprises that Damian had absolutely no interest in- Damian could look everywhere.

Gotham had a special air to it. Damian wanted to blame pollution at first, but it wasn't the smoke and dust lingering in the air what made him feel like that. The city had personality, something that could be linked to Batman in one way or another. It made it easier to understand why so many criminals and vigilantes were obsessed with it.

Damian was excited to go to the supermarket -though he would never admit that to Drake. He had never had a chance to be in one, and with Timothy distracted it would be easier to look at the products without embarrassing himself too much. He'd never been able to just look at the foods available and pick whatever he wanted; his meals had always been planned by somebody else, and he was determined to take advantage of this opportunity.

His enthusiasm didn't last long though. Most of the foods were just gross, in Damian's opinion, and they kept bumping into strangely dressed people. Several times Damian took them for some rogue's henchmen, and it was only Timothy's relaxed stance in front of him that stopped Damian from attacking them. Current fashion trends were absolutely baffling.

Damian soon decided that Gotham didn't have personality, it was just a terrible city in every sense, and Damian was determined to inform Timothy of such when-

"So, how are you liking Gotham?" Tim asked, ending the phone call and smiling up at Damian. He looked... happy to be there. With Damian. In Gotham. Getting groceries in a supermarket full of weird things and weirder people.

And so, Damian found himself immersed in a problem with three parts:

Damian did not like Gotham.

Timothy, apparently, liked Gotham very much.

Damian wanted Timothy to like him, for reasons he had no time to look into.

"It is nice," he mumbled in response, and put another peanut butter jar in their cart. He could examine his motives later.

-

Damian had never lived with the freedom to do as he pleased. Back at the League, it was always training and studying, and when he was at the Manor, well, there was nothing he could do. He was used to some kind of schedule, in any case; somebody making decisions about basic things like that.

Timothy, however, was often busy and he wasn't -despite what Batman said- going to lock Damian up, so he showed him the rooms and the utilities and told him to do as he pleased. And so, unsurprisingly, on his first free morning at the apartment when Tim had work to do at Wayne Enterprises, Damian had no idea of what to do.

He knew about the television well enough to know that there wouldn't be anything interesting on, so he checked the books around the apartment. There were a lot of different subjects, from physics to criminology to business, but there wasn't anything Damian didn't already have an extensive knowledge of. He didn't feel like studying anyway. He wasn't hungry either, so there was no point in going to the kitchen, and his bedroom -a guest room- was too empty to be able to provide any entertainment. The front door, of course, would be-

-not locked.

Damian opened the door and peeked outside. The exterior looked exactly the same as it had the last time he had gone out with Tim, and there was nothing stopping Damian from just running away like he had been thinking for a while.

There was nothing for him outside, though. The situation had changed, and Damian was probably better off staying with Timothy for now, rather than on the run and considered a threat by everybody who knew him. He had an objective here, a chance to reach it, and running water. He hadn’t even thought of any escape plans for the last week.

Not even going out for a walk was really worth it. He didn't want to get lost in the middle of Gotham or get in trouble and make everyone think he wasn't worthy of Timothy's trust. So he closed the door and went back inside, ready to spend another afternoon with the television.

In many ways, the apartment was worse than the Manor. Damian's "room" back there was much more luxurious, and the bathroom had been right there. But at the same time, Damian found the apartment infinitely more interesting. It was more modern, and Timothy's personality shone through every square inch of it.

It also had more gadgets. Latest generation coffee maker, smart refrigerator... Damian loved it. Neither the League nor, apparently, his father enjoyed novelty items -though in his Father’s case it might as well be that he didn’t let his prisoners use them- but Damian did. As a matter of fact, the only reason he wasn’t testing them now and opening them to see how they worked was, again, not wanting to upset Timothy. Back to the television -Timothy had said he rarely used it and that Damian could do as he pleased with it.

As he sat, though, Damian noticed there was an extra machine he hadn't checked yet. It was linked to the television screen, so Damian had permission to use it – in a sense. He clicked all the buttons on the remote controller until the angry housewives changed to a black screen. A small tune came from the speakers as the screen showed a logo.

When Tim arrived five hours later, exhausted from work, he found Damian sitting on the edge of the sofa playing Mario Kart. He didn't even notice Tim's presence until the other boy was right next to him and dropped his laptop bag on the coffee table. Damian turned to face him, looking guilty and blushing, and started explaining he had just pushed the wrong button and that he had never intended to mess with his property.

How could Bruce think Damian was a danger? With a smile, Tim sat down on the sofa next to Damian.

"Don't worry about it. Mind if I join?"

Damian seemed to get even redder at that, but ended up offering Tim the other controller.

-

After some time passed, Damian learned another thing about the apartment: the furniture was awful. Damian usually didn't care much about comfort, but sitting for a long time on the sofa made his back hurt. He guessed that Tim really only needed a good office chair and a good bed to live there, but for Damian it was getting really uncomfortable.

It was especially uncomfortable with Jason Todd staring intently at you.

Damian had never met him before. At least not face to face; their conversation across a closed door doesn't count.

Neither does when Todd met him as an infant, because Damian didn’t remember it.

He was definitely going to remember their meeting this time though, because the Red Hood hadn't done anything but stare at him with a small smile ever since he arrived. Damian remembered the comments about him not being completely right in the head after the Pit, but everything else had made him believe Todd was completely functional. Damian might have to change his mind.

"So... you crushing on Timmy, baby bat?"

Definitely change it.

"Where the hell did you get that idea from?!" A completely incorrect assumption, really. Damian didn't like Drake any more than anybody would, and he was most definitely not blushing.

"Well I'm not blind." Jason leaned back in the armchair, his small smirk growing into a full grin. "You've been doing everything he says, and I saw you talk with him and B. It's pretty obvious, and you didn’t even deny it now."

Damian didn't had an answer for that.

Jason seemed satisfied with Damian's (lack of) reaction. "The pretender won't be here for a couple of hours-"

"You said you thought he was here!"

"-and I want to help you," Jason finished as if he hadn't heard Damian's comment. "You wanna get on Tim's good side, don't you?"

"Where did you-"

"-get that idea from? Man, I’d have thought Bruce’s son would be smarter."

Jason stood up and went to sit on the sofa right next to Damian, apparently not worried about Damian's assassin training and all the other things Batman was so worried about. The only reason Damian didn't attack him was because he knew Timothy wouldn't like blood on the white carpet, and-

"Alright, perhaps I do. Why are you so interested?" Despite everything, or maybe because of it, Damian didn't trust Jason in the slightest.

"’Cause I'm always up to piss off the big bat, and I love my little brothers."

Jason's cheeky smile was pissing Damian off. At the same time, it was true that Damian didn't know what to do. He did want to impress Timothy, and maybe show his Father he was trustworthy, but nothing was quite working as he planned.

"-tt- I doubt you are trustworthy-" Jason's grin didn't falter in the slightest, "-but I guess I have enough time to hear what you have to say."

"I knew you would come to see things my way, baby bat,” Jason said, and patted Damian’s shoulder. “Come on, we have work to do.

Damian wasn't sure what was he getting into.


	7. Chapter 7

The past two weeks had been interminable for Tim. Damian had adapted well to living with him, he hadn’t caused any trouble, but he was also absolutely no help at anything. He couldn't cook, he could barely look after himself, and it doubled Tim's work on the apartment. Wayne Enterprises work had piled up, especially since he couldn't go travelling around anymore while taking care of Damian, and the situation in the streets had worsened. The drug trafficking had increased all over Gotham, and Tim was starting to suspect some rogues were in on it because there was no way a group so organized could just appear with no experience and no leader.

However, there was no rogue Tim could think of that could be implicated. The biggest, most notorious ones were all locked up in Arkham, retired, or had already been investigated by Tim. He found himself once again at a dead end. Damian seemed to notice his problem, and he actually tried to help, but all he knew about Gotham's crime was what Talia told him: very imaginative stories about Penguin and Two Face and tales of heroism from old glory days. He was nothing but a spectator, and Tim couldn't just give him intel. He trusted Damian not to kill him, but that didn't mean he trusted him with all his work.

For a while Tim suspected it might all be Talia’s revenge; if not the initial increase in South Gotham, at least the most recent expansion. Tim thought the League was trying to increase its power in Gotham to steal Damian back- that is, until Damian received a missive from his mother where he was declared a traitor and an enemy to the League. Apparently, Talia had spares in case Damian died or did something akin to what had happened. The letter arrived to the Manor barely a week after Damian started living with Tim, and Tim had decided not to show it to Damian. Not yet, at least -it could wait until Damian’s place with them was more secure.

Tim was overwhelmed, in any case, and he was starting to feel it. Even with Jason back in the streets, things weren't looking any good and Tim had to spend more and more hours every night patrolling. It was starting to take its toll.

That night precisely, Tim was practically falling asleep on a rooftop. He had drank enough coffee for an army, but the real reason he was drifting off to sleep was the snowstorm.

He was cold, he could barely see, and the wind was so noisy he almost didn't hear the fight.

Two stories below him, there was a domestic argument on a firescape. Apparently somebody had spent a lot of money in a bad investment. Tim couldn’t care less. Robin, however, had to make sure everyone was be alright and that it wouldn’t end bloody, so he jumped down.

It was a mistake. The domestic argument wasn’t such -unless you counted three six foot tall Penguin goons domestic. Tim was so tired he had mistaken a gang dispute for a marital spat, and now he was absolutely lost.

The other men were as disoriented as he was when they saw Robin jump in front of them, but they had the advantage of proper sleep and not keeping two full-time jobs, and they reacted fast. One of them threw a punch directly at Tim’s head, which he barely avoided, and soon enough Tim found himself barely able to stand his ground against the three of them. He wanted to shoot his grapple and get out of there, but with the snow it was hard to see anything-

Attempting a high kick almost made him lose balance, and Tim knew if the goons hadn’t been caught by surprise the fight would be over already. His bo staff could only do so much, and wouldn’t it be fun if everything ended there? Robin, defeated, dead and buried, and inot any super villain’s fault this time -just pure exhaustion and three minions. Tim would laugh if he wasn’t so busy trying to get out of the damn fire escape alive.

And as suddenly as it started, it was over. The men fell to the floor writhing in pain, and instead of three goons now there was a tall, hooded figure standing in front of Tim.

“I came to help you, Robin,” the figure said over the wind, and shot his own grapple gun upwards, moving to a nearby rooftop. The voice was deep -a man’s?-, a bit like Batman’s, but it definitely wasn’t any vigilante Tim knew or had ever met.

However, he had just saved Tim’s ass. He probably deserved some trust.

Thinking that, Tim followed his mysterious savior, who was still waiting for him. It was difficult to see, but he seemed to be wearing vaguely familiar black and red clothes. He was also taller than Tim, but not too broad, and...

“My name is Red Bird. I just arrived to Gotham, and I want to join your crusade.”

Looking back, Tim should have been expecting it.

“Damian?”

The boy -because it was him, of course it was- pulled his hood back and gaped at Tim, looking absolutely shocked, even with the domino hiding his eyes.

“How did you know? Todd said...”

Tim really, really should have been expecting it.

“Who else could it be.” Tim frowned. “I thought I told you to stay at home.”

“I...” Damian’s grief stricken expression softened Tim’s annoyance. “I wasn’t going to go out. I had been planning this for a while, I wanted to introduce myself properly, but you looked in bad shape today, so I...”

Tim sighed. Taking stupid risks and doing things without consulting anybody was apparently an important trait on the Wayne genetics. And Damian had, after all, saved him, so-

“I’m tired. Let's go home."

He took a couple of steps back and was already looking for somewhere to shoot his grapple when he noticed Damian wasn't moving, and was still looking at him like a kicked puppy.

That hadn’t been the best thing to say to someone who was depending on trust. If Damian broke Tim's trust, he'd be locked up back in the Manor in no time, or so Bruce had made him promise. And going out as a vigilante on his own would definitely be breaking what Bruce considered the rules.

"I'm not mad at you, Red..." that name couldn't be accidental, what the hell, "...Bird. Thank you for saving me." Damian perked up at that. "I'm just too tired to continue patrol, and I'd like to get away from the storm. Want to come with me?"

That had the effect intended, because Damian straightened his stance and put on his hood again. Tim would have to lecture him about that hood, it was so impractical...

Later though.

"Yes, I would like that."

When they got back to the apartment, Tim was so glad to get out of the snow he almost forgot the matter at hand. Damian stepped inside right after him, though, and a single glance reminded him.

A closer look revealed that Damian's outfit had been designed with parts of other vigilantes suits. Mostly Dick's, who was the one always experimenting with things and had more spare pieces of everything, but Tim was pretty sure the vest was something he had been testing for a new Robin suit and the cape could have been Bruce's. There was no way Damian could have gotten everything on his own. Maybe he had hacked into Tim's secret base, but given that Tim hadn't detected anything last time he was there, that would mean Damian would have had to work out the whole thing in the, what, two hours Tim had been out patrolling? That was definitely the work of more than one day. That only left one option.

Tim thought he should be glad that at least Damian was getting along with Jason.

"Want some coffee? I don’t know about you, but I want something warm," Tim said, taking off his gloves and cape.

Damian took his cape, and with a small nod he followed Tim to the kitchen. They stood in silence while Tim prepared the coffee, and then for another minute while they got warmed up.

"So, you want to follow in Bruce's footsteps?" Tim said over his coffee.

"I always said I wanted to join him," Damian grumbled, looking defensive. He twitched, and Tim couldn't tell if that was due to his annoyance or not being used to the domino. Could be both.

"I know you did." Tim took another sip. "Alright, I'll help you."

He'd have never thought Damian's face could light up like that, especially without even needing to smile.

"Will you?"

Damian almost spilled his mug when he stepped closer to Tim. Tim noticed he had picked the one with the black cat on it, again. He couldn't help his smile.

"Well, I said you deserve a chance, didn't I?" And I owe you, Tim didn't say. "You will have to do as I say, though."

He finished his coffee as Damian mulled the idea over.

"I won't be your sidekick," Damian finally said.

"You won't be." Tim put his empty mug in the sink and started removing his domino. "But I have more experience."

"I have been training all my life."

Tim rolled his eyes, taking advantage of the fact that his pupils were still hidden under the lenses.

"I still have more experience, in Gotham and specifically with Bruce. You're going to need that if you ever want to convince him." As closed minded as Damian was being, his pout was kind of adorable. Reminded Tim of a pug. "We can't just go and tell him you're a vigilante now can we?"

"What do you want me to do, then?" Damian grumbled, looking away.

Tim smiled and reached out to take off Damian's domino -the first few times could be tricky, and he didn't want Damian to end up with a burn all around his eyes or without eyebrows. To his surprise, Damian didn't protest or even flinch.

"Just trust me."

Damian was blushing under the domino. Huh. Maybe it was an effect from the cold and Tim hadn't noticed it before.

He could think about it later.


	8. Chapter 8

Tim's workload had been getting lighter recently. As ill-advised as he thought it would be at first, accepting Damian's desire to help him in his mission had been a great idea.

Damian was absolutely eager to hold onto that small chance of being finally accepted by his father, and even if he could be overly aggressive and reckless at times, he proved himself capable of having Tim's back when they were out of patrol. Because of course, they patrolled together. Tim was still Robin, but he had been patrolling by himself long enough to be able to hide his newly acquired kind-of sidekick from Batman. He didn't quite trust Damian out in the streets alone just yet either: as much as the younger man assured him he knew Gotham's streets as well as the palm of his hand, Tim was completely sure his knowledge was merely theoretical.

It felt weird, because even if Tim was used to patrolling with somebody else, he had never acted as anybody's mentor -hell, he was Robin! Sidekick was part of the definition, and he felt like he was deceiving people by keeping Red Bird by his side. Damian was so happy to help him, though. He had his father's genes and while he wasn't the most communicative person in the world, Tim knew how to read small gestures and between the lines. It made him smile, knowing he had been right about Damian: he was desperate to fit in, to the point of being willing to follow the instructions of both his father's sidekick and ex-sidekick.

Thanks to that, Tim's cases had experienced considerable advances in the time since Damian had unofficially joined them. Damian was well trained and intelligent, which made patrols faster and allowed Tim to cover a wider area, even if they didn't separate, and solve cases sooner.

True, he could be a brat who despised Tim's taste in pizza and insisted on taking way too long showers. But he was interesting, good at conversation, and Tim found himself liking him more and more as time passed. Maybe even a bit too much for it to be reasonable or proper, but that wasn’t a problem, not yet. Not ever, if one asked Tim.

Jason, in fact, was the only problem Tim had with the whole affair. His moods had improved, and sometimes he walked into Tim out on patrol, or even visited Tim's apartment. One would think he just really liked Damian, but there were too many double meanings in his sentences for Tim to accept it.

Who knew Jason Todd would enjoy playing the matchmaker.

"So, which Red Bird are you going to be riding tonight?"

"Jason!" Tim turned around, startled, and gave Jason his best glare -which lost some of its effect because of how he blushed under the domino.

Tim was alone in the rooftop over his apartment, having sent Damian home already. He had just been talking to Oracle, patrol pretty much over, and he hadn’t expected anybody. Definitely not Jason making innuendos.

"No names on the field," Jason replied, and Tim didn't need X ray vision to know that he was smirking under his helmet.

"Nobody is here." Thank God Damian wasn't either. "And can you stop that? Seriously, he's... kinda cute, but there's nothing between us, alright?"

"Of course not, and you haven’t noticed how he looks at you, right?”

Tim’s blush grew deeper and he scowled at Jason. Truth was, he had noticed... something. He would not dare call it a crush as fast as Jason did, though.

“I don’t even use that car anymore,” he grumbled. “And anyways, that doesn’t matter. Why are you here?”

Jason shrugged and approached Tim casually, as if he was just taking a walk in a park instead of on a rooftop at 3am.

“Just felt like dropping by. Did the tiny bird already leave?”

Just felt like teasing Tim, more like.

“He’s already home, and I’m going now-”

“Red Hood, what are you doing?” Damian’s head popped up from the ledge right behind Tim, with his usual pout in place. “I was worried, you were taking too long to-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Jason started laughing, and Tim felt himself blush up to his ears.

“Don’t worry, Red, I was just leaving. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

Jason saluted Tim and turned away, Tim too flustered to say anything. Damian’s concern was sweet, but it also gave Jason fuel for his comments. And maybe he was right somehow-

“Are you coming home now, Robin?” Damian asked, looking up at Tim from his perch.

Shit. Batman’s son, who was six year younger than Tim, had a crush on him.

And Tim shouldn’t be as happy about it as he was.


	9. Chapter 9

Tim went blank for a moment when Oracle gave him the code. The night was calm, a bit cold if anything, but it was almost December so it was to be expected. Tim had just been patrolling with Damian. There hadn't been much to do besides stopping a small robbery and a mugging in the first three hours, and there wasn't anything that indicated that was going to change. Even the drug trade seemed to have been going down lately, so-

"Did you just say code white?" he asked into the comm while Damian -who still didn't have one for secrecy reasons, even if Oracle was perfectly aware of him- looked at him with a puzzled expression behind his mask.

"Yes, there's no trace of him anywhere. The comm link only gives me static, the GPS looks like it was destroyed..." Oracle explained. Tim could hear the frantic key smashing in the pauses between sentences.

"Maybe he had to go somewhere, Superman took him for an urgent mission or something..."

"He knows about our proceedings, he always informs me of when something like that happens." Barbara's voice sounded more agitated than Tim ever remembered. "You're closer to where he was than Red Hood, I need you to take a look."

Tim took a shaky breath. Weirder things had happened in Gotham, but they never meant anything good.

"Alright, give me the coordinates."

After a minute more of talking with Oracle and a promise to keep her updated, Robin turned towards a nearby building. Before he could shoot his grapple gun, though, Red Bird reached him and grabbed him by the arm.

"What was that about, Robin? What happened?" he asked, and it was clear he wouldn't accept being left behind or in the dark.

"It's..." Tim sighed and looked Damian in the eyes, cutting off the comm link just in case. "It's your father. He disappeared."

Tim could see Damian pale slightly even with the dim light coming from the streets down below. He might not have seen his father since he moved in with Tim -only three times in total in all his life- but Tim knew Bruce was the ideal Damian kept striving to reach. He didn't have a lot of people in his life at the moment anyway -with a small stab of pain, Tim realized that was probably the only reason Damian seemed to like him so much- and no matter how Bruce had treated him, Damian would continue to adore him.

There was no way Tim could keep him away from this.

"It'll be fine, Red Bird. Just follow me."

On impulse, he touched Damian’s cheek with his free hand and smiled at him reassuringly. The contact only lasted a moment, but when Tim jumped to the next building, heading for the docks, his fingertips were still tingling.

It didn’t took them long to reach the point where Batman’s signal had disappeared. Tim had been preparing himself for a long search -looking for clues, examining the atmosphere, gathering samples, the whole deal. Damian never liked those kinds of cases, he preferred having something physical to fight against, but he still payed attention whenever Tim showed him the proper proceedings. Tim was thinking absently they might be able to split the work when he reached the alley.

He had been wrong. They wouldn’t be doing much searching that night.

In front of him, there was a big, neon lit sign saying “follow the breadcrumbs, little robin”. An arrow below it pointed towards the back entrance of a warehouse, with light coming from under the door. Tim’s spirits fell even lower: there went his theory of an accident or a malfunction. He stopped dead in his tracks and started looking around for any suspicious shadows or booby traps while Damian got closer to the sign to examine it.

“Do you think it’s a trap, Robin?”

“Of course it is,” Tim replied, following Damian after he made sure their surroundings were clear.

He sighed: just like in the old times. It wasn’t the first time he had encountered something like this and he knew what he had to do. Some rogue with a bunch of goons and a master plan to end Batman would be inside -maybe some imitator, as Tim couldn’t think of anybody from the old days who could be behind the whole set up- and after a big fight and lots of property damage they’d all go home with a handful more of scars to add to their collections. He could manage it.

The problem was Damian. The boy had been working well, but fighting one of Gotham's rogues was nothing like kicking around some random thugs.

“Red Bird, you should go home,” Tim said, stepping between the sign and Damian. “I'll take care of this.”

“What?!” Damian’s outraged yell resounded in the alley, making Tim want to cover his mouth with his hand, or cape, or something. “There’s no way I am leaving! I’ve been studying your files and fights ever since I can remember, and I’ve wanted to do this all my life! Batman is there, I can’t just-”

“It’s dangerous, Red Bird,” Tim interrupted.

Damian looked absolutely dejected. Tim knew he had been working hard, and he cared so much about Bruce’s opinion-

Damn it.

“Stay close to me and don’t do anything risky. Don’t reveal your identity, and don’t-”

“I already know that,” Damian huffed, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “Let’s go in, come on.”

Tim even smiled a bit as he called Oracle.

-

The scene inside the warehouse was so similar to the video feeds Damian used to watch as a kid it didn’t even look real. It was like stepping inside a fairy tale for him: a sinister, disturbing fairy tale, but a fairy tale nonetheless. There were goons in strange costumes, a big scenario-like area, a smoking vat Damian was convinced was full of acid, and-

“Is that the Penguin?” Damian muttered to Tim, trying to hide his fascination. They couldn’t see the man very well, still hiding in the shadows by the door they had used, but Damian would have recognized him anywhere.

“It looks like it,” Tim replied in the same tone. “I can’t believe it, he hasn’t been involved in anything like this for years.”

Well, there was no way they hadn’t noticed someone entering. He couldn’t keep them waiting for long. Straightening his back, Tim stepped into the light.

“Here’s the bird!” Penguin announced triumphantly. “Not so little anymore, are you? But it doesn’t mean we can’t remember the old times.”

He even had a sound system installed in the warehouse. How did he ever get a profit from his crimes if he spent money like that?

“I thought you had left the ‘old times’ behind, Penguin. I should have known better.”

Damian had stayed behind. He had been too distracted to react on time when Tim moved, and now it would be completely awkward to follow: he would interrupt the dialogue! But now he could use Tim’s distraction to sneak out and look for his father. The goons were mostly watching Penguin’s speech, looking not exactly thrilled about being there, and the warehouse was just a big, well lit open space. Damian couldn’t see anywhere Batman could have been hidden. There was only the scenario, the vat of acid, and a big console full of cables and bright lights. Damian was convinced that with the current technical advances, it was completely superfluous, but the Penguin apparently liked the classical look. Damian appreciated the detail.

His first assessment had been incorrect, though. When he looked around the warehouse again, while Penguin chatted about the old times -Damian knew Tim was just waiting until Penguin spilled the details of whatever trap he had set- he noticed something hanging from the ceiling. It was too high and too far away to see what it was, but it was made of metal, and it looked big enough to keep somebody inside. If he could climb the walls, Damian would be able to take a proper look.

“Ours has been a good story, hasn’t it, little robin?” Penguin was walking in front of the console, not letting Tim take a good look at what the screens said. “I’ve missed this. The Bat, you... even back when you wore those green pants!”

Tim scowled. He wasn’t in the mood to take fashion advice from the Penguin of all people. He could take the Penguin down by himself, he knew, even with all the goons, but he couldn’t take any risks before knowing where Bruce was or what it was that Penguin had planned.

“Get to the point, Penguin, I don’t have all night.”

“Kids today and their manners.” Penguin made a wet tsk sound with his tongue. “I just wanted a last reunion! You could appreciate my effort. I had to take care of the drug trade to get the money for all of this.”

“It was you?” Now that was a surprise. He had never suspected of Penguin- though he had seen his henchmen a lot in the streets lately. Penguin had been clean for so long though, he could still barely believe it.

“Of course it was me. Fortunately, I don’t need it anymore, it was a pain.” Penguin laughed loudly. It gave Tim shivers. “This is my whole plan, you see? I wanted to return to our beginnings. Ours was a story that never ended, little Robin. Fortunately, it will end now. Batman will die tonight.”

Again, not the first time Tim had heard that. It was probably the first time Damian heard it live, though, and Tim allowed himself a glance back while Penguin delighted in his own geniality -to find Damian wasn’t there.

The Penguin wasn’t amused by Tim’s sudden lack of interest in his speech.

“I hope you are not waiting for a rescue, Robin. The Red Hood is probably having trouble with the explosives I set near the city hall-” here he broke into his usual croaky laugh, “-and I might not know where Nightwing is, but I know he’s not anywhere close, or he would be here already.”

“You know you can’t win, Cobblepot,” Tim replied, not actually paying attention. He was trying to scan the building to find Damian, but if he made it too obvious the Penguin would notice – and so would the goons, with their weapons trained in his direction. At that moment, the only thing he could do was distract them and hope Damian had some plan.

-

It wasn’t easy to reach the cage. Damian was determined to stay silent, even more when he heard Penguin’s comment about Robin being alone. He was in a perfect position to act, even if that meant taking twice as long as he should have to make his way across the ceiling.

“Father?” Damian whispered when he was finally standing – well, hanging – from the rope in front of the cage. There wasn't much light to see by, since Penguin likely wanted to keep Batman’s position hidden long enough to finish his speech, but Batman’s silhouette was recognizable enough. “Are you alright?”

“Who are you?” Batman spoke slowly and walked towards Damian even slower. He had to be drugged.

“I-” Damian started, but he realized he didn’t have a good answer. Red Bird wouldn’t ring any bells, and confessing his real identity could make things worse in so many ways. He shook his head and started picking the lock of the cage. Fortunately it was simple enough to undo with just one hand -Penguin had probably thought Batman wouldn’t be well enough to do it himself.

He was right, given how his father stumbled when Damian tried to tug him out. Another step and he would have fallen into the pool of acid, probably dragging Damian down with him. There was a small part of Damian that hoped the suits would be at least partly acid proof, but he didn’t feel like testing that hypothesis out. Even from that height, just the smell made his nose itch.

It took him some time to adjust Batman in a way that would allow Damian to carry him up the ropes, across the ceiling beams, and back down to the ground -never mind Penguin’s estimations and long experience with sedatives, his father was barely one step over being a zombie.

After ten minutes, Damian had just reached the top of the rope when he noticed some movement down below out the corner of his eye. He risked a glance down -why was the warehouse ceiling so maddenly high?- and saw Penguin doing something with the console. It was hard to tell what it was while trying to pull oneself and a 210 lb man onto a beam. He didn’t have to wonder about what Penguin was doing for long: as soon as his position was secured and he could look down again, the Penguin started laughing. Tim had jumped to the platform now, apparently ready to give him a beating, or break the controls of the console. Damian hadn’t been paying much attention.

“It’s too late!” Penguin croaked.

Damian didn’t remember his voice sounding so much like a drill. A second later, there was a motor noise and the cage went down into the pool of acid. If it had happened a minute before, Damian would have fallen with it. He wondered what the hell Penguin was thinking, the splash would probably-

Tim had thought the same thing, because he jumped behind the console. The Penguin didn’t react in time, too happy with Batman’s imminent demise to worry about his own safety, and the acid hit him full blast. After that, everything was chaos.

Damian could do nothing but stay there and watch, entranced with how Robin knocked out twenty armed men in under a minute. He had never seen Tim in action, not like this. Fighting muggers with knives and weak knees was completely different. Tim was incredible when fighting: strong, precise, perfect. It was like watching a ballet.

And then, it was all over. The only sounds in the warehouse were Penguin’s screams of pain and the faint sizzling of the acid.

“Red Bird? Batman?” Tim yelled.

Right. Tim thought Bruce was the one making sizzling noises.

“Up here!” Damian answered, waving. “I got Batman!”

When Tim finally managed to make out their shapes in the darkness and smiled up at them, relieved, Damian thought he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

-

Everything went smoothly after that. Red Hood had gotten there, unscathed but annoyed at being detained by the explosives, and made sure nobody escaped before the GCPD arrived. Robin called the car after informing everyone they were alright, and went back to the Manor with Batman and Red Bird. Neither of them said anything on the ride back -Batman still drugged, and Red Bird looking pale and slightly anxious.

Soon after they arrived, Alfred confirmed Bruce -who hadn’t passed away at any point- would recover just fine. Everyone in the family had already been alerted though, and Nightwing said he would come back to Gotham to act as Batman in the meantime. Tim didn’t think it absolutely necessary, since there was a new vigilante in Gotham, anyways, but he could explain that later; Alfred looked so relieved to know they would all be home for a while, Tim thought he would spare him the drama for now.

The peace didn’t last long, though. Bruce was getting more and more conscious by the minute, and as soon as Alfred determined his work was finished and went to sleep, Bruce called Tim to his room. He was in pajamas, and with no actual injuries he looked like he just had the flu. The Robin suit felt out of place, and Tim could only be glad the drugs didn’t allow the full out bat glare.

“Care to explain me who Red Bird was, Tim? Wasn’t that your car’s name?”


	10. Epilogue

“Well, he's mad that we all hid it from him, but that’s all. I think he'll eventually accept it.” Tim closed the door to Bruce’s room and smiled encouragingly at Damian, who had been waiting there the whole time. “He said he'd supervise your training. Maybe you'll eventually become Robin and everything.”

Tim yawned. It had been a long night. They were both still in their uniforms, masks and everything -except that Damian had taken off his hood and cape and was currently clutching it between his armored hands. It was kind of adorable, seeing him so nervous -Tim knew he would miss him. His heart kind of hurt at the prospect, but he knew it would be for the best. Damian needed to stay at the Manor with Bruce.

“What? But what about you?” Damian asked, looking way more upset at the news than Tim would have ever imagined. Maybe he was just anxious.

“Oh, well, I think I’ve gotten a bit old for the role anyways. You can have Robin.”

Tim shrugged and took off his mask, looking down at it. It was true, nobody had been Robin past their twenties, and even if he knew he would never be able to leave the vigilante life behind, he was independent enough to be able to establish an identity for himself. Batman didn’t need him to be Robin, and he didn’t need to be Robin anymore either.

“I would rather have you,” Damian replied, blushing.

“...What?”

“You accepted me and defended me when my father rejected me,” Damian explained, speaking fast. “I also enjoy your company and overall presence in my life, and I would prefer if things stayed this way. I... like you, Timothy Drake.”

Tim looked away from Damian’s intense stare for a moment.

“I actually don’t dislike you, either,” Tim mumbled, a small smile forming on his lips when he glanced up at Damian. “I never said I was going to leave you on your own. Jason will be here for you too, and Dick will be back soon. I think you'll like him too. We could also arrange things so you could stay at my house from time to time, too...”

“I- that would all be good. But I didn’t mean that. I just-” Damian looked away for a moment and took a breath. “I would like to kiss you now. In a romantic way.”

And Tim would have laughed, but he figured that kissing Damian would be a better use of his time.


End file.
